


Hidden Blood

by IronWoman359



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (not human; though it's implied), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Blood Drinking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Threats of Violence, Urban Fantasy, Vampire Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Vampire Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Vampires, yeah it's an urban fantasy coffee shop AND it has vampires i hoard aus like a dragon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26690200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronWoman359/pseuds/IronWoman359
Summary: Logan Ackroyd’s life is not quite perfect, but it’s about as close as it can get. He has his business, his best friend, and most importantly of all, his boyfriend. Roman turned his life upside down in the best possible way, and Logan can’t imagine himself being happier. Until more of Roman’s past is brought to light, and Logan’s world is turned upside down again, but this time, nothing about the process is pleasant. Will Roman be able to save him, or will Logan’s own past catch up to him first?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

To anyone else, the overlapping scents of coffee, woodsmoke, and at least a dozen different potions, all with vastly different ingredients bubbling away in cauldrons, would be an overwhelming onslaught of the senses. To Logan, however, it was the familiar, comforting scent of the start of his day. He moved between the cauldrons with practiced ease, checking temperatures, adding ingredients, and stirring where necessary. Most people would be intimidated by the prospect of brewing more than two potions at a time, but most people were not Logan Ackroyd. He was acutely aware of exactly what he was brewing at all times, and the precise stage each batch was in. He knew which cauldrons needed more heat and which needed less, which needed more rock salt and which needed hazel root, and which batches had to simmer for another twenty-four hours and which were ready to be bottled and placed on the shelves of the shop above him. Logan was, after all, the best potion brewer in the city. 

He had to be. 

An alarm sounded from his phone, and Logan made his way across the room to the large, walnut desk that he used as a workspace to store and prepare ingredients. He pulled open the bottom drawer, and was greeted with the familiar sight of a row of vials filled with a dark blue, faintly glowing liquid. He selected one, pulling out the stopper and downing its contents in one gulp, and grimaced at the bitter taste. He pulled out his phone and opened his health tracking app, checking off the first box of the day. Satisfied with the completion of his early morning routine, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and headed up the stairs, out of the cellar where he kept his brewery and into the main part of his shop. 

Logan always felt as though “shop” were an inaccurate word to describe his business, but what else were you supposed to call an establishment that was part cafe, part potion shop, and part independent potion brewery? It was a fairly unique business model, one that Logan had developed himself, and despite his irritation at being unable to adequately label it, he was proud of what he had built. It of course was not totally unique; most other cafes did have the option for potion additives in their beverages or pastries. But how many cafes could boast that the drinks were specifically designed to compliment certain potions for maximum effect, that those same potions could be purchased by the bottle on your way out, or that all potions and coffee alike were hand-brewed by a master potioneer? Very few, and that was why Logan’s cafe thrived. 

He busied himself behind the counter brewing various pots of coffee, some with potions added and some without, and had just poured himself his own cup of black coffee with an extra shot of espresso when his business partner and childhood friend Patton bounced into the room. 

“Morning, Lolo!” Patton said cheerfully, setting the trays of pastries he was carrying down on the counter. 

“Good morning to you, Patton,” Logan said. “Is there anything you need in the kitchen?” 

“Um, I’m almost out of drafted decompression, but I had enough to finish this morning’s batch of Calming Cookies. Oh, and I’m down to my last tincture of clarity. Other than that, I should be good!” Patton smiled brightly, then waved his hand absently at the pastries on the counter. They rose into the air and floated gently to their place in the display cases, and Logan suppressed a grimace at the tiny prick of jealousy that came with watching Patton perform magic so effortlessly. 

“I have a fresh cauldron of drafted decompression downstairs,” he said, forcing himself to ignore the feeling. “And the next batch of clarity will be ready for steeping by the end of the week.” 

“Perfect!” Patton said brightly. “Virgil should be here any minute, are we all set to open?” 

“I do believe we are,” Logan replied. “Would you like to do the honors?” 

“Aww, you know me so well!” Patton cooed, before skipping out from behind the counter and flipping on the cafe’s glowing ‘open’ sign. “The Corner Cauldron is open for business!” he cried, clapping his hands, and Logan allowed himself a small smile at his friend’s enthusiasm. It didn’t matter that he and Patton had been running The Corner Cauldron for almost five years now, Patton was still just as excited to open every morning as he had been on their first day. 

Patton’s excitement was contagious, and Logan soon found himself easily falling into the rhythm of serving his early morning customers. Patton’s boyfriend Virgil showed up for his shift as a barista around seven am, and after greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, Patton disappeared back into the kitchen. Virgil fell into step beside Logan, and the morning passed by in a haze of pouring coffee, mixing lattes, and filling up pastry bags with Patton’s delectable treats. 

The Corner Cauldron was always busy in the mornings, but it was officially midterm season now. By lunchtime, the cafe was completely packed, not only with regulars, but with a massive influx of students looking for double espresso lattes with an extra shot of focus and brownies drizzled with caramelized concentration. 

“Hey Lo, we’re out of liquid luck,” Virgil called. “Please tell me you have refills downstairs?” 

“Yes, I’ll go grab some right now,” Logan answered. “Have Patton come help you at the counter if you need extra hands.” 

It took Logan barely a minute to rush down to the cellar, grab two bottles of shimmering green liquid off the shelves, and hurry back up to his place, but in that time, the line of customers still nearly doubled. Logan quickly passed one of the bottles of liquid luck to Virgil, then set the other down behind the counter before turning to the next customer in line. 

“And what can I get for you today?” he asked, eyes already on the POS station in front of him, ready to punch in the order. 

“One of your pretty smiles, to start,” said a low, playful voice, and Logan’s dark blue eyes snapped up to meet deep red ones. 

“Roman!” Logan frowned, and glanced at the line of customers stretching out behind him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had rehearsals all day today?” 

“I do,” Roman shrugged. “But we’re having some lighting issues, and our lunch break was extended. So I thought I’d come downtown to see my lovely boyfriend.” 

The corners of Logan’s mouth tugged up a bit despite himself, but he forced himself to put on his ‘firm’ voice. 

“While I am delighted to see you, I’m sure you noticed that we’re quite busy at the moment. If you aren’t ordering something, then I’m afraid you’ll have to leave, or at least get out of line.” 

“I get it, no worries,” Roman said with an easy smile. “I _would_ actually love a bloody red eye, I’ll need some extra caffeine to get through the afternoon.” 

“Pig’s blood okay?” Logan asked. 

“You know it is, Logan,” Roman replied, and Logan shrugged. 

“Be that as it may, I am still required by law to get confirmation before a purchase. Alright, we’ll have that ready in just a moment, feel free to wait over by the mix-in station.” 

“I await with bated breath,” Roman said, blowing Logan a kiss. 

Virgil pretended to gag behind the espresso machine, and Logan pointedly ignored him as he rang up Roman’s total. A bloody red eye was about as simple as a regular red eye, the espresso was simply brewed using hot blood instead of water, and less than two minutes later, Virgil was passing the steaming cup over to Logan. 

“Here. Go give your vampire boyfriend his daily fix.” 

“There’s hardly enough blood in this drink to constitute a full day’s–” 

“I didn’t mean of blood,” Virgil said with a smirk, and Logan felt heat rise to his cheeks. 

“Right,” he muttered, ducking past Virgil, who now looked entirely too pleased with himself. 

“Here you go, enough blood and caffeine for you to survive the rest of rehearsals,” Logan said dryly.

Roman smiled as he took the drink, and leaned over the counter to peck Logan on the cheek. 

“Thank you, my dearest. It smells divine.” 

“I am _working_ ,” Logan protested weakly, but Roman just smiled wider. 

“Come now, you know you like it when I dote on you,” he teased. 

Logan rolled his eyes, but really, he couldn’t argue with that point. He _did_ like it when Roman was affectionate, even though logically it should bother him that doing so during work was unprofessional. Roman did a lot of things that were illogical, like drag Logan out of his apartment in the middle of the night to go on an adventure or paint a mural on his living room wall, but strangely, Logan did not mind. He _liked_ going on midnight adventures, he liked helping Roman paint a starry sky on his ceiling to complete the “masterpiece,” and he liked when Roman showed up at the cafe unannounced just so he could give him a kiss. He liked _Roman_...he might even love him, and Logan couldn’t decide if that was terrifying or thrilling. 

For now, he settled on leaning forward and allowing Roman to give him a proper kiss on the lips. 

“Perhaps I do,” he said quietly, and Roman smirked. 

“Logan!” Patton suddenly called from the kitchen, breaking their moment apart. “Your timer in– oh, hi Roman! Your timer in the kitchen is going off.”

Logan grimaced, and Roman’s playful smile turned understanding. 

“Potion time?” 

“Potion time,” Logan sighed. “And I need to get back to work anyway.” 

“No worries, mi amor,” Roman said, taking Logan’s hand in his. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

“Six o’clock sharp,” Logan agreed. 

“Then I shall see you this evening.” Roman lifted Logan’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Until then, my starlight.” 

Logan’s cheeks flushed, and Roman winked at him before taking his drink and turning to leave the cafe. Logan probably would have stared after him until he couldn’t see him anymore, but an elbow jab to his side pulled his attention away. 

“Earth to lover boy,” Virgil said, and Logan turned around. 

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” 

Virgil snorted. “Go take your potion before you start getting dizzy, you lovesick dork.”

“Ah yes, I’m the lovesick one. Remind me how it went when you first confessed your feelings to Patton?” 

“Oh, come on, man.” 

“I am merely stating facts,” Logan said smugly. “You cannot expect to ‘start shit,’ as it were, without meeting some retaliation.” 

“Lolo, be nice!” Patton chided, slipping behind the counter with another tray of pastries. 

“I am being perfectly amiable, your boyfriend is the one who started it.” 

“Uh, no, _you_ started it by turning into a pile of mush the minute _your_ boyfriend walked into the shop.” 

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but Patton swatted his shoulder. 

“Potion! Now!” he commanded. 

Logan rolled his eyes, but he slipped into the kitchen to take his second dose of the day without further protest. The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of customers and coffee, and before he knew it, his other employees had arrived to relieve him of his shift at the front counter. 

He retreated back into the cellar and easily lost himself in the quiet work of preparing ingredients and brewing potions, occasionally pausing to take care of a few bills and other administrative tasks. As much as he enjoyed working alongside his friends, this was where he was truly in his element. His entire life, the one thing he’d been able to count on was potion making. The rules of doing so were complicated, yes, but they were consistent and reliable, which was more than he could say for anything--or any _one_ \--else in his life. 

At least, that was true until Patton had exploded into his life in middle school. Patton was the first person who didn’t care that he was an Ackroyd or mind that he was different, and had been his first and only friend at school. Patton was the only person who didn’t see Logan’s skills in potion brewing merely as an acceptable replacement for his lack of spell casting ability, and had encouraged him to pursue his own goals independent of his parents’ expectations. Patton became the most reliable thing in Logan’s life besides potions, and in many ways, he owed Patton everything. 

Then, there was Roman. 

At first, Logan had been resistant to the (admittedly handsome) vampire’s attempts to get to know him. His life was finally in a place that he was happy with; the last thing he needed was some unknown suitor throwing a wrench into everything, especially if he was just another person trying to capitalize on Logan’s family name and fortune. He’d learn soon enough that of all the Ackroyds, Logan was the least likely to afford him any social or monetary gain. But Roman kept trying, despite Logan’s cold shoulder, and Logan eventually began responding to his attempts at conversation with more than curt, one-word replies. 

It was through those tentative talks that Logan learned two very important details. One, Roman had been independently wealthy for most of his life. And two, he had a distaste for the complex mind games and politics that came along with high society that rivaled Logan’s own. That, more than anything, had been enough to convince Logan that Roman’s intentions were genuine. 

Letting Roman in had been one of the most nerve wracking things Logan had ever done, but three years later, he was convinced it was also one of the best things, alongside from making friends with Patton and starting The Corner Cauldron. Roman made Logan feel alive in a way he had never dreamed was possible. After years of living underneath his parents’ thumb, Logan finally began to believe that he could be truly free of them. And just like loving Roman, Logan couldn’t decide if that was more terrifying or thrilling, but he was starting to think that it was okay for something to be both. 

Logan found himself smiling as he began wrapping up his work in the brewery for the day. Maybe Virgil had been right, maybe he was just a tad lovesick. But, as he made his way up from the cellar and left the cafe for the day, he couldn’t help but think that there were far worse things to be. He began walking down the sidewalk in the direction of Roman’s apartment, street lamps glowing softly overhead, and took a deep breath of cool evening air. He could not say that his life was perfect, but in this moment, he could say that he was utterly content.

He did not see the dark silhouette step out of the shadows after him until it was too late.

\--- 

Roman paced back and forth outside his apartment building, trying his best to stay rational. Logan was almost fifteen minutes late for their date, and hadn’t responded to any of Roman’s texts or calls. Some people might just assume that Logan had been held up in traffic or forgotten to charge his phone, but Roman knew Logan better than that. Logan was always on time, always had his phone charged, and _always_ let Roman know if there had been a change of plans. 

“Calm down,” Roman muttered to himself. “It’s probably fine, you’re just overreacting.” 

But Roman couldn’t shake the nagging voice in the back of his mind that insisted something was wrong, so after yet another failed attempt at calling Logan, he selected a new contact instead. 

“Hello?” a peppy voice answered on the second ring, and Roman took a deep breath. 

“Patton? It’s Roman.” 

“Oh, hi Ro! I thought you and Logan had a date tonight?” 

“We do,” Roman said. “He was supposed to meet me here almost twenty minutes ago, but he hasn’t shown. I wondered if maybe he got held up at work?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Patton said. “Did you try calling him?”

“Three times. No answer.” 

“Huh...that’s not like him,” Patton murmured, his worry palpable even through the phone. 

“Just...let me know if you hear from him, okay?” 

“I will. I’ll also head over to the shop, maybe he’s just down in the cellar and lost track of time.” Patton didn’t sound too convinced of his words, but Roman appreciated the optimism anyway.

“Thanks, Pat,” he said, then ended the call. 

Part of him wanted to walk downtown towards the cafe to see if something had held Logan up while he was en route...but then what if Logan showed up while Roman was gone? Would it be better to stay where Logan expected him to be, or to go out looking for him? 

The shrill ring of Roman’s phone pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts, and his knees nearly buckled in relief when he saw the caller ID. He scrambled to answer, nearly dropping the phone in the process.

“Logan? Galloping gargoyles, you had me worried. Why haven’t you been answering your phone, where are you?” 

The other end of the line was silent, and Roman frowned, checking the screen to make sure the call was still on. 

“Hello? Logan, are you there?” 

Another beat of silence, then a familiar voice that was decidedly _not_ Logan’s sounded through the speakers. 

“Hello, Roman.” 

Roman froze. 

“How?” he whispered, and the voice scoffed. 

“Really? It’s been how many years since we’ve seen one another, and that’s all you have to say?” 

“How did you get that phone?” Roman demanded, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. 

“Why, I merely borrowed it from young Mr. Ackroyd. I can assure you, he made no objections.” 

Blood roared in Roman’s ears, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. 

“What do you want?” he growled, gripping his phone case so tight he felt the plastic crack beneath his fingers. 

“You know what I want, Roman. Come back home where you belong, or I will be forced to do something that I do not wish to do. The Corner Cauldron is such a lovely little shop; it would be such a shame if it were to go out of business.” 

The line went dead, and Roman sucked in a breath. 

“No,” he whispered to himself. “No, no, no…” 

Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, but he furiously blinked them away. There would be time for tears later, right now, Logan needed him. He looked back at his phone, steeled himself, and dialed a number. After five rings, the other end finally picked up, and yet another familiar voice filled his ears. 

“Hello?” 

“Remus,” Roman choked out. “I need your help. They found me.” 


	2. Chapter 2

“If you keep pacing back and forth like that, you’re going to wear a hole through my carpet.” 

Roman paused his pacing just long enough to shoot a glare in his twin brother’s direction. 

“I’m sorry if the state of your floors isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities right now, Remus.” 

“Hey,” Remus said sharply, standing up gripping Roman by the shoulders. “Look at me. We’ll get through this. Okay?” 

Roman sighed, slumping forward and letting his weight rest on Remus’s arms. 

“What are we going to do?” he whispered. 

“We knew this could happen,” Remus said simply. “That’s why we planned, remember?” 

“We planned for them coming after one of _us_ ,” Roman said, looking up and meeting his brother’s eyes. “But they didn’t take me, or you, they took _Logan_ , and I don’t...I can’t–” 

“Sit down,” commanded a new voice, and Roman looked up to see Remus’s fiance Janus coming out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs. Somehow, he still managed to look just as intimidating in gray sweatpants and a yellow t-shirt as he normally did in a three-piece suit and capelet, and it wasn’t just because of the runes glinting on the left side of his face. Janus had a way of carrying himself that caught your attention, a way of speaking that commanded your respect, even if he were merely commenting on the weather.

Remus plopped down onto the couch, pulling Roman down with him in one, not-so-very-smooth motion. 

“Drink,” Janus said, pressing one of the mugs into Roman’s hands. 

“What is it?” Roman asked, peering into the cup. 

“Tea,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow, and Roman took a small sip. 

Immediately, he felt some of the tension bleed from his shoulders, and he sent an accusatory glare up at Janus. 

“Tea with _what?_ ” he demanded, and Janus shrugged. 

“A few drops of drafted decompression,” he said lightly. “You’re no good to Logan or anyone else if you’re so wound up you can’t even think straight.” 

“My brother’s never thought straight a day in his life,” Remus chuckled, elbowing Roman’s side. Roman shoved him off weakly, and Remus frowned. “Don’t worry lil’ bro,” he said more quietly. “We’ll figure something out.” 

Roman opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. For a moment, the room was frozen, then, 

“Roman?” 

Roman let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

“It’s Patton,” he said. “I texted him the address and told him to come here, just to be sure he would be safe.” 

Janus closed his eyes for a moment, and the runes on his face glowed faintly yellow. 

“There’s two people out there,” he said, opening his eyes again. “One with blonde curls, another with dark hair and bags under his eyes.” 

“Patton’s boyfriend,” Roman explained. “Virgil works at the cafe with them. He can be trusted.” 

Nodding, Janus got up and went to the entryway.

“Come in,” he ordered, opening the door just wide enough for Patton and Virgil to slip inside before quickly closing it again. 

Roman stood up to greet them and immediately found his arms full of a trembling Patton.

“Roman!” he gasped. “What’s going on? Are you okay? Did you find Logan?” 

Roman felt a lump grow in his throat, and he shook his head mutely. 

“Oh, Ro–”

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” Janus said, and Patton turned to look at him. 

“Huh?” 

“We do know where Logan is,” Janus explained. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t give us much of an advantage.” 

“Sorry, who are you again?” Virgil asked, and Remus let out a cackle. 

“Virgil, Patton, this is Remus and Janus,” Roman said, gesturing to the two of them. “My twin brother and his fiance.”

“A pleasure,” Janus said, nodding his head. “I do wish we’d been able to meet under more favorable circumstances.” 

“What did you mean when you said you know where Logan is?” Patton asked breathlessly.

“We know the assholes who took him, and there’s only one place they could be keeping him,” Remus huffed. “But that doesn’t help us very much, because they _want_ us to know that they have him.”

“Someone _took_ him?” Patton squeaked, his eyes wide. 

“Okay, I think you need to start at the beginning,” Virgil said. “What exactly is going on?” 

“Have a seat,” Janus said, gesturing to the empty space on the couch. “It’s a bit of a long story. And Roman, drink your tea,” he added, shooting a stern look in Roman’s direction. 

Janus’s tone left no room for argument, so Patton and Virgil sat, and Roman dutifully took another sip of the doctored tea. He didn’t want to admit it, but the warm drink _was_ helping him think more clearly.

“Okay,” he said. “From the beginning. Have you ever heard of The Immortal Order of Sacred Blood?” 

Virgil frowned. “That’s a vampire coven, isn’t it?” 

“One of the oldest covens in vampire history,” Roman agreed. 

“And one of the most dickish,” Remus chimed in. 

“In what way?” Patton asked, and Roman scoffed. 

“Every way you can think of. Belief that vampires are the superior lifeform? Check. Belief that natural born vampires are inherently superior to turned ones? Check. They believe that humans only exist to be a workforce and food supply. And it’s not just humans that they’re awful to, they control everything about their member’s lives. Their relationships, finances, contact with the outside world, everything. It’s more than a coven, it’s a cult.” 

“They hide their tracks well,” Janus explained. “As far as the rest of the public is concerned, they are merely a prestigious historical coven with a rather stringent policy on accepting new members. They are deeply entrenched in high society, and have well maintained relationships with both other historical covens and with prominent magical families.” 

“As far as anybody outside their ranks knows, their worst fault is that they’re a tad on the traditionalist side,” Roman continued. “Only members are aware of the true extent of their extremism.” 

“...you know,” Patton whispered, and Roman smiled sadly. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“When we met, you said you were covenless,” Virgil said. 

Roman sighed and looked away. “I wasn’t always.”

“It’s not like we had a choice,” Remus added. “We were born into the Order; those shitheads tried to raise us to fit their own fucked up standard of what a vampire should be.” 

“We managed to get out around ten years ago,” Roman said. “Which, let me tell you, was no easy feat. They don’t exactly just let you leave.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I just hoped that maybe, after all this time, they’d forgotten about us.” 

“So they’re the ones who have Logan?” Patton asked, and Roman nodded. 

“They called me from his phone,” he whispered, and Virgil swore under his breath. 

“So we at least know Logan’s location,” Janus said. “Their compound location is a secret to the general public, but we know exactly where it is. The trouble is, the place is a veritable fortress that’s absolutely crawling with vampires, none of whom put much stock in the laws against non-consensual turning.” 

“And if I turn myself over to them, they most likely won’t let Logan go,” Roman said. “They’ll keep him imprisoned as a means of controlling me, or kill him outright as punishment for my defiance.”

“So what are we going to do?” Patton asked, eyes wide.

“That’s precisely what we need to figure out.” Janus snapped his fingers, and the runes on the side of his face glowed bright yellow. Golden light spilled from his fingers and pooled in the center of the living room floor, then a three-dimensional model of a stone building rose up from the ground. 

“You’re a warlock,” Virgil breathed, reaching out to touch the shimmering construct. 

“Yes, I am,” Janus said with a grin. “Now, does anyone have any ideas?” 

\--- 

Logan was trying very hard not to panic. He wasn’t sure where he was, or how long he had been here, or what the people holding him were planning to do with him, so not panicking was slightly difficult, but Logan was trying nonetheless. He ran through the lists of grounding exercises he’d learned from Virgil, though the nature of his location made doing so slightly difficult. 

Name five things he could see? 

Blank stone walls, stone floor, stone ceiling, iron door, iron chains. 

Four things he could feel? 

Stone walls, stone floor, iron cuffs around his wrists, iron collar around his neck chaining him to the wall. 

Three things he could hear?

His own breathing, the growl of his empty stomach, and the tap of his fingers against the floor. 

Two things he could smell?

His own sweat, and a faint, distant note of something foul and coppery that, as someone who worked in potions, Logan was all too familiar with. 

One thing he could– 

The door to his cell flew open with a bang, jolting Logan out of his sub-par attempt at grounding. A cloaked figure carrying a torch stepped into the room and Logan tensed, but the figure ignored him, moving instead to stand quietly against the wall beside the door.

“Now let’s see…” a soft voice crooned, then the owner of that voice stepped into the room. 

It was a woman, tall and fit with dark brown hair that flowed down to the center of her back. She was dressed in an elegant black gown with flowing bell sleeves, and a silver necklace set with a ruby pendant lay against her collarbone. Red eyes shone bright against her pale face, and when she smiled Logan glimpsed a flash of fangs. Some vampires chose to embrace parts of the stereotypical aesthetic associated with their race, but this woman clearly took it to a whole other level. 

“So this is Logan Ackroyd,” she murmured. She placed two fingers under his chin, her nails digging uncomfortably into his skin as she tilted his head from side to side, examining him. “I’ll be honest, I was expecting someone...more impressive.”

“Your plan will fail,” Logan said, forcing his voice to remain steady. She raised an eyebrow, dropping her fingers and folding her arms.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“I’m the proverbial black sheep of the Ackroyds, the family disappointment they want nothing to do with. You will not get any ransom for me; they will likely not even notice my absence. I make a point of avoiding most family gatherings, and I do not speak with my parents. Even if you contact them, there is no guarantee they will pay what you’re asking.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” the woman said, and she patted the top of Logan’s head. “The Ackroyd without magic, I’m quite familiar. Trust me, if it was ransom money I wanted, I would have taken someone far more interesting.” 

Logan frowned as she took a step back, still eyeing him up as though he were a particularly interesting specimen...or tender piece of meat. 

“Then…” Logan swallowed, and tried to avoid looking at her fangs glinting in the torchlight. “What do you want with me?” 

The woman laughed, and the sound sent a shiver down Logan’s spine. 

“With you? Nothing. This is a game of cat and mouse, and you’re merely the cheese. I must admit, I can’t fathom what my fool of a brother sees in you, but he’s always been weak hearted. He’ll come for you, and that’s what matters. 

“Brother?” Logan managed to ask, and the woman grinned. 

“Don’t you see the resemblance?” she asked, leaning closer. Now that she mentioned it, her face was strikingly familiar...the width of her chin, the shape of her nose, the precise shade of red in her eyes…

“Roman,” he breathed, and she smiled, showing off her fangs. 

“Did brother dear never tell you he had a sister? And here I thought the two of you were serious about each other. Ah well, it doesn’t matter.” She reached down and stroked Logan’s cheek with her knuckles. “Don’t fret, little one; when the time comes and the trap springs, you won’t feel a thing.” 

She straightened, then turned on her heel and walked out of the cell, the long train of her skirt flowing behind her. She snapped her fingers, and the torch bearer followed wordlessly, then the cell door clanged shut and Logan was alone again. 

Panic immediately threatened to overtake him again, and he struggled to take a breath. Whatever was going on here, it was so much worse than the simple ransom attempt Logan had been expecting. His heart hammered wildly in his chest, and he grit his teeth, forcing himself to focus. 

_Breathe_ , he commanded himself. _Don’t panic. Find five things you can see._

Stone walls. Stone floor. Stone ceiling. Iron door. Iron chains. 

_Four things you can feel._

Stone walls, stone floor, iron collar around his neck, a faint tingling sensation at the tips of his fingers...

Logan sucked in a breath, his calming exercise grinding to a halt. How long had it been since his last potion? He remembered taking one at lunchtime, when Roman had been in the cafe...did he take his dinner dose? No...no, he had been captured before he made it to his date with Roman, and he’d planned on taking it right before they ate. There would be residual in his bloodstream for a few hours still, but his body was slowly breaking it down. It was only a matter of time before it wore off completely. 

Logan clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, trying to force the all too familiar tingle away. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

_Roman will come for me_ , he whispered to himself. _I know he will, I know he will…_

He just hoped that by the time he did, it wouldn’t be too late. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would be only two chapters and now it will be at least three, but either way, I'm having a great time writing it, so I hope you're enjoying it as well! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo....completely new story! Surprise! This was originally going to be a oneshot, but it just flowed so much more nicely as a two parter (with a possible epilogue), so look forward to the next part coming soon (and I do mean soon, I'm hoping by the end of the week. This isn't a "Taylor takes three years to write a chaptered fic" situation). Comments and kudos fuel my soul, so thank you so much for those <3


End file.
